


The Sprits Have Eyes

by frechi123, Hamino (frechi123)



Series: Alex and Friends in the Modern Times [9]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex's Mom is an important spirit, Ambiguous Gravedigger, F/F, F/M, Gen, Goodbye Gravedigger, M/M, Multi, The Children are Spirits
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-18 19:59:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16523657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frechi123/pseuds/frechi123, https://archiveofourown.org/users/frechi123/pseuds/Hamino
Summary: Two years ago, Alexander lived with a gravedigger, who took pleasure in stealing the bodies of people who were messed up kids and adults in life, picking at their brains, making fun, studying (sometimes snacking...)Today, he gets haunted by his past foster parent's mistake, and while his friends and lovers don't seem to mind, it's only a matter of time before they all start eating away at them from the inside.Alexander is torn between trying helping the restless spirits find peace or just eradicating them. But they have been apart of him so long, and with his past now literally coming back to haunt him, is he willing to let even their most abusive of words slip away from his mind, or will let the comfort of his friends' slip away instead?





	The Sprits Have Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where I get these ideas! Work with me here!
> 
> The first chapter is in complete flashback, the rest of them are in the present but may have flashbacks inside.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex's owner is into some hardcore creepy stuff! And of course it comes at a price.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alexander had a rotten first shot  
> And he wrote about it right on the spot!
> 
> HIGHLIGHTS

"Another one?" he asked, as his owner flung another lifeless decaying body over their shoulder, this one a young woman apparently diagnosed with MPD. Last week it was an old man with OCD, and the week before that, a baby boy that had yet to realize his ADHD.

The gravedigger barely spared a glance at him. They stared at him from under the cloaked robe they seemed to have worn in the year that Alexander Hamilton had barely known them. For the first year since they took him in, they would simply leave him at home when they went out to dig graves, usually of ones with mental illnesses so they'd pick them apart and find out what did it, and of course Alex didn't know that until he caught them one day with a body around their neck, as they snuck off to the shed to feast. 

Let's just say that the bathroom was impossible to keep clean after  _that_ revelation.

Sometimes his owner would call different places from around the world to go picking off the organs of exotic bodies, as they called them. Any that they didn't yet eat, they would leave in the fridge in the musty basement where they would leave the "pretty" bodies on display. Alex never went down there because he never had a reason and hoped he would never find one.

Unfortunately, they brought one.

It was two months before Alex left them, while he was doing homework at the dining table, that they carried in a new body, a woman by the vague looks of it. He wasn't sure, because all he could see was a hand sticking out with a larimar bracelet on it. The body was covered by a blanket, and his owner was carrying it/her on their back.

"Where's that one from?" Alex asked off-handedly, as he often did. Usually, if it's a foreign body, there was a different scent to it. Last time they brought one, it was from France, and he smelled baguettes for three days and was reminded of his pen-pal Gilbert Lafayette.

This time, however, he seemed to recognize the scent before his owner even said anything.

"Oh, it seems you already know it," they said, one of the only things they'd ever said to him since he was here. Then they silently went off to the basement.

Ever since then, they made sure to keep Alex from snooping at that body at every turn. In the very few times (only 5, he'd say, at most) that he got down there, they would be standing in front of the body, warding him off and sending him back up, and he sometimes thought he saw the flicker of a hand reaching out at him.

It didn't mean much at the time, but later he would have no idea what his owner got himself into.

When it got up to a week before he was forced out of this home, though, he was exposed to it.

He wanted to sneak off to try and find out more about the body again, but he grabbed a clothespin and pinned it to his nose before he even thought about going. Alex listened, but it was dead silent in the house.

Huh. That wasn't right.

Naturally, he went to the shed to find out if they'd spent the night in there. They have done that many a time when the organs they eat may have made them pass out, and the first few times this happened, Alex nearly thought them for dead, until first stumbling upon the Vials of Vitality, aka the cure to all curable diseases everywhere.  _Great,_ Alex thought,  _they're basically a god._

He had no idea how right he might have actually been.

After seeing they weren't there, Alex went to their room, another area of the house he was never particularly pleased to enter at any point. 

Their bed was literally a coffin. Enough said.

Strangely enough, they were not in there either.

Okay, now he was really lost.

Alex knew that they weren't out and about creeping because if they were, someone always found them and called the house to tell Alexander so, and in the first few days when this would happen he would panic and cry, having not wanted to be left behind again after the whole hurricane debacle back on St. Croix, until the call came. 

Remembering why he checked for them in the first place, he headed down to the basement for some answers, knowingly not touching the railing because it was always slimy and wet. And he never knew where the fluids were coming from... and didn't want to know. It was also very hard to see - the path was lighted with only candles; there were no lights in the stairway.

As soon as he got to the bottom of the steps, he tripped and flopped right onto a cloth.

Wait... cloth?

He knew the only cloth in the room was several feet away, on the opposite side of the room, the very thing he was trying to reach, laying atop the couch. 

He stood... and looked down at the lifeless bloodied body of the gravedigger. He didn't even scream. He just gasped.

His owner was lying face down in a pool of their own blood, with a knife pinning them to the ground, and a note hanging off the handle. Curious, Alex picked it up and read it:

_Hello there, Alexander._

_Don't ask how we know your name. We know everything that goes around this house you have called home for almost 2 years. Your owner had a price to pay, you see, and tried to cheat their way out of it. They had to pay their fine. Now it's your turn._

_I have to say, this was not intentional to let this curse befall you. But our master has placed this curse upon the whole house, meaning anyone that lived in it. Even if you leave it, it will not lift. Rest assured, though, you will not be meeting death any time in the future._

_That is, unless you let the heat get to you. Your life is about to become more haunting than you may have finally realized._

_And by the way, that body you think you are recognizing? There is a crucial part missing to it that will help us bring her back to us. It got lost here in the Spirit Realm years before you came here to New York. We have been looking for it since. Without it, the body is unrecognizable. But... it seems to know you? We have seen its hand stretch to you many times._

_We wish you luck. Wherever you may go next._

With that, Alex stepped over the newest body in the basement (irony, huh?) over to the one that he was actually looking for. The hand still stuck out from the blanket it/she was covered with. He could see it, as the mystery people described, stretching out to him.

He ripped off the blanket. This time he almost  _did_ scream at the mangled body he saw. Except for the hand, it was turning purple with red splotches over it, as if that one hand was the only living part left on it.

And the kicker?

Its head was missing. Alex saw what they meant by the body being unrecognizable, but he had to put together the facts. Between it stretching out for him, the bracelet, and the familiar scent of his old home, there was one irrefutable truth.

_I knew this person..._


End file.
